


Letting Go

by Scribbles97



Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Lenle's art, Virgil being Virgil, scott being scott
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-21
Updated: 2017-03-21
Packaged: 2018-10-08 23:49:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10398933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scribbles97/pseuds/Scribbles97
Summary: Scott's hurt and Virgil isn't one for listening to orders.For those that haven’t already seen Lenle-g did an awesome sketch and naturally, that then ended up with ideas forming and ultimately 3 pages of writing being written.





	

**Author's Note:**

> http://lenle-g.tumblr.com/post/158600367990/a-doodle-im-probably-not-going-to-finish-but-here LOOK AT THIS!!!!!

It’s not often Virgil gets angry. Everyone knows he’s the peace maker of the family. There are one or two things that can set him off in a less than okay mood. 

Scott’s raspy  _ order _ to continue evacuation of the rest of the town rather than going to the trail of buildings the Mechanic had demolished, was one of those things. 

 

He’s left their youngest brothers in charge of the evac, thankful that the Mechanic’s machine was slow enough to give them time to get everyone clear of the path he was making. As he glances up to the machine he shakes his head, the mechanic truly didn’t care about the consequences of his actions. It seemed that, for him, the more destruction he made the better. That was the only reason Virgil could see for the arm of the machine swinging out of its path and into the building Scott had finished evacuating as a precaution.

 

“John? Can you get me a location of our idiot brother?”

He knew he must’ve been waiting, he hadn’t even finished his question as the coordinated appeared on his wrist comm. It was the radio silence that had them spooked. There hadn’t been the slightest sound from Scott since his last order, not even a breath. 

“It looks like he was on his way out,” John murmurs to him thoughtfully, “With the power suit it shouldn’t take you too long to find him.”

 

As always, John’s right. It only takes a few moments of scraping away rubble to reveal two metal struts that had help up enough debris to create a small space. Part of Virgil wants to sigh in relief, another part of him knows Scott is too still and pale in the dark space. One of his closed eyes is bruised and swollen, the other streaked with blood from a gash on his forehead. Broken glass and metal shards carpet the floor and it’s apparent that Scott must have been in the firing line as they had fallen. 

He tugs on the release straps of the powersuit, not daring to risk moving anything more. Shrugging out of the machine as if it were an old jacket, he clicked off his helmet. John would scold him, but he didn’t need that barrier between him and his oldest brother. Apparently Scott hadn’t wanted the barrier either when he had been evacuating the building. 

 

“How is he?”

Virgil should have been used to John’s voice appearing from nowhere, he’d heard it often enough. Something about his tone made him pause though as he ducked into the space. 

“It doesn’t look like anything serious, cuts and bruises, perhaps a concussion,” 

He flicks on his shoulder torch to get a better look as he starts a body scan, “Can you give me the readouts?”

“What’s wrong with your helmet?”

 

Virgil grimaced as he looks out into the empty street, “It’s not just handy right now,”

John tutts, “Scott would kill you.”

“I’m going to kill Scott,” Virgil retorts, “What the hell was he thinking  _ ordering _ us to stay away?”

He can imagine John rolling his eyes again, “Oh I don’t know, perhaps the mission being first?”

Ignoring John’s comment as he checks over Scott, he wincing as he came to his thigh, “Ouch.”

“I think I see it,” John chips in, “Damn lucky it missed all the major structures.”

Virgil sighs, opening the medikit as he glances back to the impaled metal shard, “I’m going to wrap around it the best I can. Then back to Two, and then hospital.”

“F.A.B I’ll let the others know you’ve got him.”

 

He’s left in quiet, the noise of the Mechanic’s machine fading, and the soft breathing from Scott a small reassurance. 

“You’re an idiot,” He utters to himself as he works, “I hope you know how much of an idiot you are.”

As he ties off the bandage, there’s a soft sigh from Scott. It’s hard not to smile as he packs away the kit, 

_ Good, _ He thinks,  _ That means you’re probably listening _ . 

“Come on,” He utters, shifting to lift Scott’s arm over his shoulder, “We can’t sit in here discussing how much of an idiot you are all day.”

 

There’s a small grunt of protest as Virgil hoists him up to his feet, and then a small breath of, “Ow,”

“Welcome back to the land of the living,” He utters as Scott’s hand grips at his shoulder.

From the corner of his eye he checks him over, shoulders still hunched around as his hand reaches to his chest, each breath aching no doubt. His bruised eye swollen shut, and no weight being held on his impaled leg. Virgil didn’t doubt Scott was feeling it. 

One good eye looks up to him, and Virgil has to huff, 

_ Here it comes _ . He thinks as Scott opens his mouth,

“You were--”

“Just focus on getting out of this hole,” Virgil cuts him off, “Then we can discuss it.”

 

Together they stumble into the fading daylight, the weight Scott is leaning on him increasing as they picked their way over the debris. He pauses as Scott winces, taking the chance to adjust his grip as they reach the smoother terrain of the road.

When he looks again, Scott is watching him, his eyebrows creasing as he reaches out a shaky hand to the one at Virgil’s shoulder,

“You’re hurt,”

He scoffs at the slight graze over his knuckles as he shakes his head, “That’s not even minor, have you looked in the mirror recently?”

Scott’s frown deepens as he takes a breath and swallows hard. His words are breathless, winded as he speaks, “I ordered you to leave me there.”

Virgil scoffs again as he looks ahead, “Like I was gonna let that happen, idiot.”

“The mis--”

“The mission is fine,” He snaps back, the temper that had been fraying for twenty minutes ready to let the last threads snap, “There was  _ nothing _ detrimental about me coming to get you.”

He realises his grip on his brother had tightened until his knuckles were white. If he wasn’t careful he knew he would add to the already mottled bruises no doubt forming to match the blue of Scott’s suit. Part of him wants to blame reflex, he has his brother safe and talking and he doesn’t want to let him go. The honest part of him knows the truth though, he’s angry, and if they were home he’d be making a rare use of the punch bag they normally deemed as Kayo’s. 

Taking a long breath he bites the inside of his cheek, focusing on the path back to his ship in the now relative silence.   

Scott’s voice seems quieter when he eventually replies,

“It was an order.”

 

Virgil glares at the road ahead, not wanting to think why Scott had made it an order. The thought of him demanding such a thing of him, forcing him to not put his family first for just one time when he had clearly needed him most. 

To him, the order may well have been Scott’s own death sentence, and Virgil wouldn’t -- couldn’t -- stand by and let that happen. 

The anger is fading. As quickly as it had snapped, the tension was gone, replaced by a feeling much stronger. He’d confused the two before, he’d seen them confused in others before when they had lashed out at those they loved in what they called anger. 

Yes, the order made him angry, but it made him feel something much worse too. 

 

“I won’t lose another member of this family,” He utters, turning the corner to the park where his ship was landed. 

He knows that’s what it really is, he knows that whilst it manifests as anger, fear is very much it’s own emotion and it makes him vent as they walk. 

“What do you think we’d do? Huh, Scott?” 

He looks to him, but Scott is rubbing at his eyes and he knows the words fall on deaf ears but it feels good to let some of that raw emotion go for once, and let someone else listen. 

“We’ve already lost Dad, you can’t make orders like that and just expect us to let you go. It’s not  _ fair _ that you’d ask that of us… of  _ me _ ! You’re my best friend and I am  _ never _ going to give up on you.”

 

His breathing is heavy as they reach the ramp into Two. Scott’s breaths are hitched, and his good eye glazed with thought. At least, that’s what Virgil hopes it is. 

The last of the anger fizzles out, the worry fading with it as Scott leans into his shoulder, resting his head down with a soft sigh, “Love you too bro.”

His big brother was safe. Maybe battered and bruised, cut and impaled, but for once it wasn’t an emergency. In the back of his mind, Virgil knows that Scott could have waited. Sure, he might had been in pain, the metal shard in his calf would probably be transmitting a dozen different infections with every passing minute. They both knew though that Scott hadn’t been dying, and maybe, had the mission not have been going so well, Virgil would have had to have left him. Just for a little while, at least. 

  
Virgil sighs too as he concedes, “You’re still an idiot.”


End file.
